Beyond the Metaphor of Mirrors
by hanyou-samurai
Summary: With tears as pure as crystal, and sobs as pain filled as war, he had left, leaving the mirror of metaphors broken in his wake. In his absence, she had gone insane. VincentxYuffie. Tragedy. Warning: character deaths. Complete.


**Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot. **

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**Beyond the Metaphor of Mirrors**

Mirrors: A metaphor. Comparing something to something else. When he looked into them, he saw a monster. When she looked into them, a queen looked out.

He couldn't remember the last time she'd told him that she loved him.

Whenever she'd told him, he'd always brushed her off, as if she were a small, ignorant child. He couldn't tell her that he loved her too. That would just bring her heartache.

The last time she'd told him, it had been raining. The rain had mixed with the tears on her face, for which she was thankful. But she didn't know that he could distinguish the difference.

As he'd turned to go, she'd screamed, "I love you!" He had turned back.

_Each raindrop resounded in his head._

She had cried crystalline tears.

_Those resounded louder than the raindrops._

All he could do, all he was able to do, was whisper, "I'm sorry," before turning and walking out of her life.

_The sobs were killing him._

"Why?"

One question, so simple… yet the answer was anything but.

_Why? Because I love you. Because I couldn't stand to lose you. Because you are the most important thing to me. Because you deserve somebody much better than a broken monster. Because this way, I'm not losing you… I'm letting you go._

He couldn't even look back. He just kept walking as her pained sobs filled the night.

_As he walked away, they both felt their hearts freeze. Only one person could thaw them._

He had returned.

They needed him, and the information he held.

She greeted him like nothing was wrong. Like nothing had happened. Like she had healed. But he knew that she hadn't. He could see it in her eyes. Her cloud-like eyes were frozen, hard to look at for too long, for they were so cold.

After the battle with Bahamut, she had gone materia hunting. He had followed her. She led him out of the city to a secluded part of the forest. There she had stopped, and turned around.

"You came back."

It wasn't a question.

"Yes."

"Why?"

That same question. So simple… so impossible to answer.

"The group needs me."

"We don't need you!" she spat. "We've been doing fine on our own for two years! Two years! And suddenly, when you get the whim, you come back?"

He stepped forward. "I-"

"No. Not you. Me. What about me? What about the ninja brat you left behind? How do you think I felt when you left me in the rain? You didn't even say anything! Well guess what. This ninja brat grew up, and is inheriting a throne next week. I'll be married, and ruling a kingdom."

_A kingdom with a broken queen, smothered by unbearable memories._

She inhaled a shaking breath.

"And you couldn't been part of it! All you had to do was look at me! Look at me! Was that so difficult?" He couldn't answer. He just couldn't.

"Listen to me!" he roared.

_In his absence, she had gone insane._

"No! No! No! Don't talk to me, don't speak to me, don't look at me!"

She dropped to the ground, clutching her head. That was when he saw the scars. All up and down her arms. Many across her wrists. She had tried to kill herself so many times.

"Where were you?" she cried quietly. "Where were you when they came?"

_Her tears were still as pure as crystal._

He grasped her shoulders, kneeling on the cold ground. "They? They who?" She pointed behind him.

"Them."

_Inner demons are the worst kind._

Behind him stood a large, black… monster. Miniscule things, very similar to the large one, were crawling all over it. A gaping hole where it's heart should be oozed crimson blood. She began to laugh.

"Do you see it? Do you see it? It came after you left, that's right, it did. And it's been hurting me, looking for you!" she crooned. His eyes widened in horror as the creatures stepped forward.

Her insanity and pain had taken on a corporeal form.

_What happens when the inner demons take over?_

Drawing his gun, he shot the things in the head. She screamed, but nothing happened to the monster.

His hand clenched around his gun as he realized that the only way to save her was to kill her. He pushed the cold, metallic gun against her temple. She smiled at him.

"So long. I still love you, you know. You just couldn't see that."

He closed his eyes and pressed the trigger.

Hot blood splattered all over him, soaking his clothes, drenching his face.

_Her blood._

He was death. The monster let out a piercing scream and collapsed, fading into nothingness.

The mirror of metaphors had been broken.

He stood up, and held his gun to his head. He had always known he would die like this. Abandoned… alone… a murdered… a monster.

Closing his eyes, he pressed the trigger.

And wished she could see death fall upon the ground.

"_Vinnie!" she called out. "What's a metaphor?"_

_He looked up from his book, and was surprised to find her reading. His surprised faded as he saw that it was manga._

"_It compares something to something else without using like or as. Such as 'he worked his fingers to the bone.'"_

_She wrinkled her nose. "That ones boring! How about… I loved the emo guy as much as anybody could love."_

_He shrugged. It wasn't a metaphor, but he'd give it to her._

"_Are mirrors metaphors?" she asked suddenly. He glanced, startled, she was acting very mature today. He thought about the question for a moment._

"_I suppose they are. They compare one thing to another. In this case, you to your reflection."_

_She grinned. "Then you, Vinnie, emo guy, need to look beyond the metaphor of mirrors."_

_That was the first time she'd told him that she loved him. It was subtle, a skill he hadn't known she possessed._

_He looked at her, startled. She jumped up out of her seat. "Come on Vinnie! Let's go get lunch!"_

_A half smile brushed his lips as he gracefully stood and followed her out the door._

_His ninja… his love… his life._

_Beyond the metaphor of mirrors. That's where he needed to look._

_Beyond the metaphor or mirrors._

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**I wrote this awhile ago, going through a bout of depression. Hope you enjoyed. Review, please.**


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